67. Countdown

After a month of attending graduations, I've decided it's time to stake a claim. So here it is:

I will graduate June 11, 2011. 372 days from now.

Whoomp... There it is.

66. Good Soil

It's no secret that of late I've been adrift in a sea of Goodness: The homies are converging on my Beloved Chicago. I'm sharing an intellectual home with my favorite living writer. And last week I had a perfect view of the second sexiest man alive as he serenaded me with some of the smoothest grooves you ever did hear. So there hasn't been much complaining in PuffLand lately.

There has been a lot of reflecting though. On the one hand, I feel like I owe the universe quite a few favors. On the other hand, the last few weeks have been an interesting counter-balance to a series of L's I've taken over the last year or so.

All this got me to thinking about the things that we reap in life. Some of it I think is random. Into every life some rain must fall. Nothing you can do about it. But a lot of it I think is, if not under our control, at least subject to our influence. We reap some of what we sow. Some of it is lost to chance.

Understanding that, I've made up my mind to sow my seeds in good soil. This will mean passing on some things that would give me a return for a while, but that might very well fail in a critical moment. It means passing on prospects with bad knees and questionable work ethics, however good their numbers are coming out of college. It means walking away from some of the beautiful things, or at least not embracing them so tightly. It means thinking long-term, which I'm okay with. I plan to be here for a while.

65. All That I Remember

In reading, there are some things that stay with you. Friendly ghosts* that you are never really without. This is one of mine. I found it in college, and have never forgotten it.

INCIDENT
by Countee Cullen

Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, "Nigger."

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
That's all that I remember.



-------------------------
"Ghosts" trope borrowed from Kismet.

64. Barack Obama Needs a Nap

The President was on Larry King talking about Lebron, Israel, and a bunch of other stuff. I didn't watch it, but I caught a clip on SportsCenter. Your boy looks bad.

At first I thought he just had on too much make-up. Then I noticed the make-up was actually covering the world's largest bags under his eyes. He looked like one of those movie characters who's made up to look 70 when the actor is really 45. Like his face was made of clay.

Poor thing.

63. Sneaker Chics

Once upon a time, I made up my mind to become a sneaker chic. There were a few reasons:

1. I've always thought there was something especially fly about a chic who could be sexy in sneakers. Anyone can pull off sexy in 3-inch heels. But if you can rock some Air Maxes and still be the flyest chic in the room, then you're doing something.

2. Hard as I fight it, I'm a gym shoe girl at heart. Jeans, a t-shirt, and gym shoes everyday. I'm trying to get away from this. But if I could find a way to fall back on it now and then and somehow still be really stylish, that'd be nice.

3. Lupe Fiasco, who I have plans to stalk at some point, is a sneaker dude. And this would give us something in common.

4. I like the idea of adding bright colors to my wardrobe in a functional way (e.g. with something I could wear everyday). This is as an alternative to buying 7 new brightly colored shirts, etc.

So... In my quest for Sneaker Chic style, I've settled on the Air Force 1's in the picture as my intro pair. I think it's a good look. Not too expensive, colorful but not gaudy, should go with lots of stuff. Maybe an early birthday present from Me to me.

62. All the News That's Fit to Print

So I started this blog to make myself accountable for writing on a regular basis. On some level, posting things that aren't written by me, or posting about things other people write, seems to miss the point. But I figure if something is interesting, and if someone is actually going to take the time to read this little project of mine, I should post whatever I feel is worth sharing. With that in mind...

I heard this on the radio this morning. Some debt collectors in Texas have gotten out of pocket with their customers. One of those customers got some crazy stuff on voicemail, lawyered up, and got $1.5 million in damages for the ridiculousness they left on his phone.

In one call they suggested that he raise the money to pay his debt by getting his lazy *ss out of bed to pick some cotton. Oh yeah... Believe it. Click here for the story.

My question is: It's 2010. Who is still stupid enough to say something like that on a voicemail??? And real talk... who is still stupid enough to say it out loud, in mixed company, outside of their own home? I don't know why stupidity bothers me more than racism, but it does. Perhaps it's because since I can't technically prove to you that I'm a worthwhile human being, maybe (just maybe) I understand how you could not think so. But you certainly have evidence enough that screaming racial slurs on tape is a bad idea. What is wrong with you???

61. Writing Workshop: Untitled

i got friends in high places.
look up, familiar faces.
look left, look right, no traces.
i'm the one that fell behind.

i got homies who don't know me,
confidantes who can't console me.
soul brothers and ex-lovers
keep their distance.
i keep mine.

exercise the pen and paper...
exorcise the weight to vapor...
close my eyes and say a prayer.
did it evaporate? or rise?

pour a shot and toast to Death.
throw it back, catch my breath.
this is hell (quiet as kept).
nothing left to do but rise.